


whatever it is that keeps you warm

by illiadus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, League of Legends RPF
Genre: Crossover, Ensemble Cast, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, OC female characters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Slow Build, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7601491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illiadus/pseuds/illiadus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hogwarts/LCS crossover.<br/>September brings change, as molten leaves and students will discover alike.</p><p>Big ensemble cast, should be updated weekly. A good time, hopefully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cedarwood, ink, and...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951667) by [ciseauux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciseauux/pseuds/ciseauux). 



> HUGE ups to the author of 'Cedarwood, ink, and...' who inspired this whole mess.

As the peace of the September afternoon was shattered, it dawned on Zachary Scuderi that perhaps Luka Perkovic was the most annoying person in the universe. He was just so... _Slytherin._

As a proud Slytherin himself, Zach thought they were the most interesting bunch of the school; not afraid to break a few rules or have some fun. To him, Slytherin was Hai Lam being able to read the mood of an entire room just by standing in it, or Darshan Upadhyaha’s competitive nature and infectious laugh. Even the hyper-talented Henrik Hansen or ultra-lazy Lauri Happonen were both facets of what Slytherin was- maximum cunning, maximum efficiency. Zach couldn’t help but think that he was only in Slytherin because of all the dirty jokes floating around in his head when he put the Sorting Hat on. 

Perkovic was loud, arrogant and handsome. Zach had been glad for the year of quiet, separated from him just about- he was still a point of contention for the whole house as the new star seeker. Between being irritatingly good at quidditch, making Hufflepuffs cry, taunting Gryffindors and worst of all getting incredibly high grades despite his minimal attention to his education, he was now ruining the upper-school study room with his chatter. 

The phrase ‘study room’ was always used incredibly loosely; at present only a fifth-year that Zach couldn’t remember the name of for the life of him was actually doing homework. There were a grand total of four people napping; Lauri, Yeu-jin Kim and two girls in the year above him were sleeping on admirably despite the racket. Henrik was sat on the same bench as Lauri, absent-mindedly singing his name into the oak slab with his wand. Behind him he could hear Alfonso Rodriguez grinding his teeth. 

He turned to him and pulled the most sympathetic grimace he could muster.  
“You okay dude?”  
“Ugh. No. I hate that little brat.” Alfonso replied, a touch louder than necessary to make sure everyone could hear him. He personally, perhaps more than anyone, hated Perkovic; one of the worst shouting-matches the Slytherin house had ever seen was when Darshan, Quidditch team captain since his fifth year as he loved to remind his rivals, had replaced Alfonso as a starter with the little upstart. There had been uproar. Paul Boyer had threatened to quit the team, and seemed to be the only person in the universe Perkovic was just a smidgen afraid of; Dennis Johnsen had… Scowled a lot that week. For someone on the team, he seemed to care very little for it. 

“We’re gonna have a first-day-back game of Quidditch tonight.” Alfonso said, throwing his pen at Paul across the room. Paul was busy talking to Cara Stevens, one of the few non-sleeping seventh year girls, and paid him no mind.  
“Sure you don’t wanna play?” He asked and Zach could only deadpan in response.  
“I’m sure I’d rather dip my balls in hot sauce.” He snarked back  
Yeu-jin woke up to hear that particular comment out of context and started snickering behind them.  
“Who else is going?” He asked Alfonso, handing him his pen to to replace the one he threw across the room. He wasn’t surprised when Alfonso threw that pen as well, clipping the side of Paul’s head this time. He sighed and mumbled a quick _Accio stupid pen._  
“To dip their balls in hot sauce?” Yeu-jin chimed in.  
Paul ambled over and flopped into the chair the other side of the workbench, jinxing it to remain in full recline. “All of us, plus the fan club.”  
Zach maintained that he would rather fall into a pool of molten lava than try and ride a broomstick in front of people. Most of his friends and dorm-mates were at least a little into sports however, they usually played chaotic eight-a-side games whilst the warm evenings lasted, made up of an odd mishmash of students from every house. He sat on the sidelines and cheered for whoever was winning whilst Lauri, the only other Slytherin as Quidditch-phobic as him, shouted derogatory comments at everyone, with no exceptions. 

“Lauri?” Zach called over. He didn’t even stir. “Is the fan club in operation?”  
Yeu-jin gazed at him, wide-eyed in admiration. “I wish I could nap like that.”  
Paul just rolled his eyes. “I’ll drag Hai and Darshan out if I can, a few Ravenclaws are coming and of course the Head Boy and his merry men.”  
Enrique Martinez, despite being the Head Boy and prefect for Gryffindor, always showed up to try and goad Lauri into playing. When he inevitably failed he spent the rest of the time winding up Paul and showboating a heinous amount. A few other Gryffindors usually came along; Yiliang Peng, captain of the quidditch team and a guy called Kevin who was in Zach’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class last year almost always showed up and added to the carnage, as well as some others who played for the house team.

A few metres away, Perkovic erupted into obnoxious laughter with his companions. Zach glanced round to look at them; Luka was sat on a desk, with three boys sat around him. They looked like Korean exchange students, although a lot of them had stayed on to board as permanent students. Yeu-jin had only been supposed to come for his second year, but had decided against moving home after that trial period. He could name two of them, Da-yun Lee and Yeong-jin Noh- they were new additions to the quidditch team and a fairly immutable duo- one of them slender and an adept chaser, the other tall and imposing, the perfect stature for a beater.

Alfonso glared for a moment before returning back to their conversation, “Nice, hey Zach do you think you could ask Will to invite all the Hufflepuffs?”  
“Uh.” Zach’s stomach churned. He wasn’t sure what to say.  
_‘I would but he hates me?’_  
_‘why do you think I rode in on the train with you guys for the first time ever yesterday?’_  
_‘no, fuck him, he wanted to leave?’_  
“Or,” Yeu-jin butted in, breaking the pregnant pause, “I could ask Chang-suk, I saw him in the library earlier and-”  
A haze of babble erupted. Watching a group of Slytherins squirm was an unusual sight. Zach could only wonder how far his face had fallen when someone mentioned Will Hartman.

The uncomfortable lieu was broken by mutual distaste as the fifth years started laughing uproariously again, Perkovic telling a story with far more gesticulation than seemed necessary. The third break in conversation was punctuated by Dennis Johnsen entering the room, followed by Hai and an unfamiliar student.  
“...and this is the upper school study room.” Hai said, gesturing around the room to the new boy. He had wispy fair hair and glasses, and a skinny stature obvious through even his dense school robes. He was wearing a poorly looped Slytherin tie that looked fresh from Madame Malkin's.  
Paul leaned in to waggle his eyebrows at Zach and Alfonso. “Neeeeeew kiiiiid!” He whispered gloatingly.

Hai immediately went into his _‘nice to meet you, I am profoundly trustworthy’_ voice; “is there anything else I can help you with?” His tone was marred slightly by him having to raise his voice over the din.  
“Yes, who is this annoying boy?” He asked, cutting him off and pointing at Perkovic. Zach snorted to mask a laugh, but few others went to such lengths. Paul literally howled, and Dennis Johnsen beckoned him over to their little congregation. Luka, to his credit, just smiled broadly and winked. 

“I’m Dennis. You’re from Denmark aren’t you?”  
“Yes, I am.” He smiled carefully and accepted his handshake.  
The rest of them glanced at each other before Hai cleared his throat “That was.. Creepy, Dennis.”  
“What? I recognise a fellow Dane when I see one. Also he sounds just like Soren Bjerg in seventh. We had detention together a load last year.”  
“Isn’t that kid a total dork?” Yeu-jin wondered out loud.  
“Bit rich coming from you, dork.” Zach shot back, grinning a little. The tension in his shoulders was dissipating. Will Hartman was far, far away- out of sight, out of mind.

Except that he was in the castle somewhere, and he wouldn’t be able to pretend he didn’t exist forever. Was he lingering in their usual spots? Was he alone? In Zach’s head he was bad-mouthing him to this faceless stranger, then they were laughing together at him, at all their old jokes recycled and besmirched by the new presence. 

He zoned back in as Dennis was introducing them all to the new Danish kid. “…Well you know Hai, our glorious leader and seventh year. Same as Paul. Alfonso, Yeu-jin and Zach and I are all in sixth, like you.” Zach gave an awkward little wave, whereas Paul and Alfonso performed some complex macho hand shakes. Yeu-jin just bobbed his head charmingly.  
“Nicolaj Jensen. Most people just call me Jensen though.”  
Paul smiled and slapped his shoulder. “How come you’re joining the school so late?”  
“I went to Beauxbatons for the last few years.”  
“Why did you leave?” Yeu-jin asked, innocently.  
Jensen grinned slyly. “Had to, got expelled.”  
Any other house, the reaction would have been different. Here, Dennis let out a low whistle. Paul grinned. Yeu-jin looked so impressed he might sigh.

“You’re gonna fit in just fine here, Jensen. You wanna come play Quidditch tonight?” Alfonso asked, sizing him up as an addition to their motley crew.  
“Fuck no man, I suck at sport.” He replied with a laugh.  
“Fan club member three is inbound! LAURI!” Zach felt like kind of a tool with his yelling, considering how incensed he had been by Luka Perkovic’s chatting a matter of minutes beforehand.  
Lauri didn’t budge an inch. The small fifth year beside him jumped however, and tapped him on the shoulder in an attempt to make him stir. 

“Afraid you’ve gotta go hard or go home sometimes.” Henrik said to him kindly, before unceremoniously shoving Lauri off his stool. He yelped as he hit the ground. “Holyshitwhatthefuck!”  
“Good morning, Lauri.” Hai said, beaming down at him.  
“I know full well it’s not the morning, you shit-gargling-”  
“I’m gonna go use the prefect bathroom.” Zach said, not emotionally prepared for the hijinks he knew would begin any moment now.

His companions let out a universal ‘oooooh’ before laughing; it was a constant source of hilarity to the entire boy’s dormitory that Zach had been deemed the shiniest of all the turds and had bemusedly been made a prefect- the other three boys decidedly worse candidates after their fourth year when Alfonso shattered an entire greenhouse in herbology trying to impress a Ravenclaw, Dennis broke the school record for the most illegal plays as a beater in one season and to everyone’s surprise Yeu-jin was exposed as having spent the best part of two years running an underground bootlegging outfit, selling booze to upper-schoolers.

He walked up the stairs that lead to the dungeon, past Darshan and his fellow 7th year Zaqueri Black, squabbling over noticeboard space and pitch rotas. The two were friends, however after having both been made team captains for the Slytherin and Ravenclaw quidditch teams respectively they had unlocked a certain competitive dynamic to their friendship, both determined to outdo each other.  
“I’m having it Wednesday, ‘Shan.”  
“Shit off are you, you know that’s my free night!”  
“That is such crap, you’re just trying to exploit the astronomy lessons my chasers have Tuesday and Thursday.”  
“I’m telling Jake you said that-”

Their bickering dissipated as Zach rounded the corner.  
He needed time to meditate on tomorrow- his first potions lesson of the term would be when he would see Will again. He had met Will Hartman on his very first day, nervous on the Hogwarts Express. It would have been picturesque had they not ended up in different houses; although the rivalry between Hufflepuff and Slytherin wasn’t as fierce as others that raged over their time in the lower school, the scars left by the Battle of Hogwarts weren’t salved by the time they arrived. The castle was in partial disarray, a huge overhaul of staff in the process of being conducted and Slytherin kids were not regarded highly. Even the recent additions bore a part of the stigma. They had become properly close friends after they were partners in charms for their second year, finding glee in each other’s warped sense of humour. After Yeu-jin and Will’s room mate Seong-hoon, whom everyone called Huni upon his own request, became close friends there was another excuse to spend his evenings down on the far side of the lake, enjoying contraband on behalf of Yeu-jin and playing fetch with the giant squid. 

The last time they had spoken was bitter, passing like strangers on the Hogwarts Express.  
“I didn’t think you would be here.”  
“Same.”  
He had changed his hair so much it was hard to recognise him. It was so short, so dark. The frown lines nestled behind his glasses were so deep. It was like all the joy had dropped out of him over the span of a few short months. Zach regretted sending him that howler. A handful of words exchanged, and Will had walked off into the crush of students walking down the train with their overloaded trunks without even a backwards glance.

Zach hadn’t exactly flown through his O.W.L.S, but Will had done a lot worse. He probably wouldn’t have if he had tried literally at all; his dad wanted him to train to be an auror when he graduated, like him and his father had. Zach knew from the nights spent travelling the Floo Network to be with Will around the Atlantic that that dream could not be further divorced from the things he loved most; the hum of a computer’s hard drive, his dog Charlie and living with his mom in Virginia. He hated England, hated Hogwarts, but most all hated his dad.

Tearful conversations early in the morning through the fireplace in Zach’s parents house- Will wanted to drop out. He ‘fucking hated Hogwarts and everything about it.’ Zach knew logically that he was a separate entity to Hogwarts, but it still stung a little. He didn’t want to do two more years alone, either. They were the butthole brothers, the only duo dynamic enough to make Professor Turley call off a class early. They had won a twenty galleon pot for that one. When he breathed deep, Zach could still smell the fireworks. Will was the only person he had ever tried to ride a broom in front of, and he’d barely even laughed when he inevitably fell off. 

The bickering turned raw- Zach was called ‘unsupportive’, so he called Will ‘unreasonable’ and so it descended. Every night they became just a little more savage with their words until the critical mass was breached. It had been a warm night in July.  
“I can’t believe you don’t think I can do this!”  
“It’s only two years, I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of… Everything.”  
“You sound like him now. _So_ reasonable, oh you’re _so_ level-headed Zach.”  
“Shut the fuck up! You’re being such a bitch, I’m just trying to give my opinion you asshole.”  
“No, fuck you! Fuck Hogwarts and fuck you!” His voice had cracked on the last syllable. Zach had swiped his hand through the fire, cutting off the connection. Then he had gone outside and yelled at the top of his lungs. Midway through that somewhat primal scream, he decided that Will Hartman was dead to him.

He paced up the stairs towards the fifth floor corridor, wondering if Will would be happier as a muggle. He was constantly enraged with the lack of Wi-Fi around Hogwarts, and always frustrated when his tablet seized up and refused to work so he couldn’t even play his handheld video games. It seemed to him that Will Hartman had seized onto the most advantageous path possible for a muggle, with an appreciation for everything their culture and technology generated, and ended up a wizard. He hoped that a warm bath before watching the quidditch would soothe his nerves, but rationally he knew the knot in his stomach would stay dense and painful until he had to see his somewhat-ex-definitely-best-friend again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are really exposition-based and I'm sorry

“C’mon guys! Everyone’s gonna be on the quidditch pitch in like twenty minutes! We’re going to be late!”  
“Shut up Enrique.” Martin Larsson glared from under the cushion he had thrown at him, sprawled across the sofa of the Gryffindor common room with a notebook in his lap.  
“Such insubordination!” Enrique mock-gasped. Someone passing through the common room caught his eye and he called over.  
“Hey! Hey Jae-hoon!”  
Jae-hoon Kim fled through the portrait hole without so much as a backward glance.  
He huffed, irritated. He had spent all day cooped up in boring classes and he just wanted to blow off some steam, make fun of Lauri, and beat Paul at quidditch for the twenty-third time in their school career.

He flopped onto the sofa next to Martin. “What are you writing?”  
“Gay porn.” He deadpanned.  
“And I trust the main protagonist is a handsome, young Latino who just wants to make it in the big city-”  
“Enrique shut up!” This time he was laughing however. Although Martin was a year younger than him, they had been close for all their time in Gryffindor tower together. He sighed. “It’s homework. Already. I knew N.E.W.T.S were going to be hard but…”  
“The suffering has only just begun!” Enrique replied glibly, smiling at him.  
Martin groaned and shoved his face back into the cushion. “This sucks. Let’s go play some Quidditch.”  
“Finally! Let me go find the others.”

He tramped up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, almost squashing a third year girl in his rush.  
“Sorry!” He called behind him as he burst through the door.  
“Jason! Jaaaaason!”  
“What do you want loud guy?” Jason Tran poked his head through the drapes of his bed. For someone who did advanced alchemy, played on the Gryffindor quidditch team and had a multitude of friends to keep up with, Tran seemed to spend a lot of his time napping.  
“Wanna come play quidditch?”  
“Fuck yeah, I do!” Shouted Peter Peng from inside his own bed.

There were six of them in total that traipsed down to the Quidditch pitch with their brooms. Enrique couldn’t track down Jae-hoon in the end, but he had rounded up Martin, Peter, and Jason. Kevin Yarnell was in the year below him, but was utterly powerless against Peng’s machinations to get him out of the dorm, as well as one of Martin’s friends from sixth, Lee Yoonjae and a fifth year called Vincent Wang. Some of them really weren’t over his surname yet.

As the group arrived, Enrique immediately scanned for the ‘Fan Club’, as he had dubbed it. In all honesty neither Zach Scuderi or Lauri were anyone’s fans, but they came to ironically cheer any ways. It was kind of heartwarming. Mostly scathing, but there was definitely affection in there if you looked hard enough. He spied them sitting by the sidelines of the pitch, Lauri already starting his evening session of tearing up the grass and making it into a pile in from of him. The groundskeeper would have a cow if he could see it, not that he was likely to notice.

Sidling over, Enrique cleared his throat. “So Lauri, we could really use another chaser, you know for um, manoeuvre eleven.”  
Lauri just stared at him belligerently and turned to the boy next to him, who Enrique did not recognise. “Jensen, this is Enrique Martinez. Local fool.”  
“Also, head boy and charmer extraordinaire.” He grinned and shook hands with the strange boy. “Nice to meet you.”  
“Likewise.” The Slytherin replied.  
“Why hello there, adoring fans!” An approaching voice called over.  
“Shut up, Paul.” Zach replied, not hesitating for a moment.  
Paul clapped a hand on Enrique’s shoulder. “Ready to lose, my man?”  
“Shit, no.” Enrique grinned. “Just think about how gutted Lauri would be if I let down his favourite sport like that!” Lauri threw a clump grass at him.

The turnout was actually pretty impressive. At least twenty students were clustered around the centre of the pitch where Hai Lam and a few other seventh years were starting to organise the unruly bunch.  
“Team captains! We need two team captains.” He called, scanning the area for candidates.  
Enrique jogged over, pleased with his own initiative. “I have an idea, fifth years can be captains.” There was general nodding and assenting.  
“Vincent!” Peter Peng called to the other side of the crowd. “Hey, Wang! Team Wang is go.”  
“Hey Josh, you can be the other captain right?” Zaqueri Black asked from the centre of the pitch.  
The other fifth year strode out of the crowd confidently “Sure.” He replied, surveying his options.  
Beside Enrique, Darshan was doing some quick calculations. “Six chasers, three beaters, two seekers and a keeper. Let’s fuck shit up!” 

Bless his soul, Vincent looked a little awkward choosing players from his peers. Hartnett did it ruthlessly.  
“Um, Peter.”  
“Yessss, daddy wang!” Peng walked over and forcibly high-fived the cringing fifth year. Enrique heard someone huff in annoyance behind him.  
“Zaqueri.”  
“Martin.”  
“..Jason”  
“Bunny.”  
“Darshan.  
“Jesper.”  
“Fabian.”  
“Enrique.”

He grinned and proudly joined Team Wang. The two 5th years were calculatedly picking up the people who played for house teams so far- however the wild cards were often the most interesting aspects of the highly unadvisable twelve-a-side route. They had a strong team so far though: Peng wasn’t the captain of the Gryffindor team for nothing, they had a star seeker in Martin; Michael, or Bunny as everyone called him for reasons unbeknownst to Enrique, was an extremely confident keeper and Jesper Svennington was one of the most adept beaters in the school, both in Ravenclaw.

The team huddle was hilariously large.  
“First order of business, Wang Squad is way more catchy.”  
“Excellent stuff, Eugene.”  
“Thanks boss.”  
“Okay, well let’s just uh, play good I guess.” Vincent finished, slightly lamely.  
Everyone shifted awkwardly for a moment before Enrique took the initiative. “Wang squad on three!” He shouted. There was an almighty shout of “Wang Squad!” Before the players moved out onto the pitch, the other team similarly seized with competitive fever.

The game kicked off as Lauri lacklusterly threw the ball in the air and went to sit down again. Everyone was far too unorganised and liable to cheat in a coin toss. Enrique used his innate knowledge of how much Lauri hated all physical exercise to dip low in order to grab the Quaffle first. As soon as he did, he found himself confronted with a bludger moving at lightning speed towards his stomach. He was forced to swerve but managed to throw the ball to Vincent before righting himself and moving into the fray. Above him he could see Martin circling, trying to catch a glimpse of the snitch before the opposing seekers did: Fabian Diepstraten was the seeker for Ravenclaw and extremely good at his job, Yeu-jin Kim was deceptively passive and not to be underestimated.

Eugene fumbled the ball and it was intercepted by Lucas Larson, a Hufflepuff. He immediately starting moving up the pitch, Enrique used his position further back to his advantage and gave chase. Dennis Johnsen deflected a bludger away from his chaser and it ploughed straight over Enrique’s shoulder, missing his head by centimeters. He gained speed, someone directly on his tail. He twisted his head a little; Paul Boyer was just behind him. Larson passed to another Hufflepuff who Enrique couldn't name, but as fairly certain he was always hanging out with Yeu-jin. He kicked the quaffle very convincingly towards the Wang Squad’s goal, but Michael was miles ahead of the play and saved it easily.

He passed the ball back out to Enrique, who paused for a moment and the banked left as hard as he could, skimming under Paul, much to his annoyance. He threw the quaffle to Peng as he reached the halfway line and moved out to the wing. Peter was fairly impressive in the sky, easily weaving around Hai Lam and Josh Harnett, until a particularly brutal strike of a bat sent a bludger careering straight into his chest. Winded, he dropped the ball and a considerable amount of altitude as he struggled to breathe. Luckily for their team, although not so much the structural integrity of Peter’s ribcage, the ball fell to Chang-suk Lee, who was on their team. He paced forward a little warily, picking up more speed as Kevin Yarnell flew beside him, reassured by the bat and Kevin’s aptitude in deflecting bludgers. There was a slew of shouts from the meagre crowd below, as at the other end of the pitch Martin went into a free-fall. Enrique squinted. Feint or genuine sighting of the snitch? Yeu-jin Kim seemed convinced of its validity and gave chase, partially surrendering himself to gravity. 

Whilst the attention of most players was drawn away by their antics, Chang-suk passed to Alfonso who began speeding towards the enemy goal. Darshan knew better than to be distracted and saved the shot. Martin pulled up at the last second of his dive and moved along the bottom of the pitch with huge velocity, scanning everywhere with his eyes for the snitch if Enrique knew him correctly. Yeu-jin had also managed to swerve away from terminal impact with the ground but with considerably less grace. He was currently meandering with little control of his broom.

Jason Tran had been thrown the quaffle by Darshan, and was moving fast through their team, Josh Harnett and Paul dovetailing behind him. Enrique glanced around and saw Vincent getting into position to mark Harnett so naturally he had no choice but to fly as close to Paul as he could, blocking any chance of him receiving a pass from Jason. Lee Yoonjae managed to clip a particularly fast moving bludger with his bat, giving Jason no choice but to swerve and try to pass the ball. The unfamiliar Hufflepuff boy dove low and managed to just about hold onto the Quaffle. From the small crowd below, Enrique could hear snatches of chanting in the wind. 

He felt rather on top of the world, figuratively if not literally. The wind was whipping through his hair and the altitude made the air taste like ozone. His heart was pounding with excitement and exertion. He glanced down and realised that the Hufflepuff was about to pass to Hai, who was only slightly below him; a well-executed dive would mean interception. He swung downwards with his body and blocked the pass, sending the quaffle into Eugene’s hands. He heard more cheering from below and smiled to himself as he rotated another ninety degrees to follow Eugene’s flank as they moved towards the enemy goal. Peter Peng moved parallel to him on the other side as Jesper made an impressive deflection of a bludger that was streaking towards him. Enrique wondered if he had terrible luck or someone was deliberately trying to give him a smack upside the head with a 30 mile per hour enchanted ball of leather. The three of them had a clear path to the goal, with Chang-suk, Vincent and Alfonso blocking the more aggressive enemy chasers. At the last moment feinting to the right, Eugene punted the quaffle into Peter’s waiting hands who scored on the left-most ring. Cheers erupted over the pitch. If he cocked his head, Enrique could hear Lauri’s signature wolf-whistle. As Darshan retrieved the ball, the second seeker on their team, Adrian Ma began moving rapidly towards the top of the stands. Fabian Diepstraten was hot on his heels and the better flier. 

Darshan wasted no time however in getting the quaffle back into play, passing it straight to Lucas, who took off down the pitch at a breakneck pace. Enrique sped after him, trying to split his vision between the pursuit and whatever was happening above him. Adrian continued to circle, apparently having lost sight of whatever prompted him to move up there. Enrique urged his broom to move faster, the gap between him and Larson rapidly closing as they passed the halfway line of the pitch. Lucas passed to Jason, and Enrique had picked up too much velocity to reposition and intercept. He swung his broom around, the feeling of G-force crushing his bones and making him feel alive. He could see Jason out of the corner of his eye, and he whipped round to see if there would be time for someone to cut the chaser off. Unfortunately it meant there was no time for him to dodge the bludger hurtling towards his face.

He felt true weightlessness grip him for a moment, as the momentum of the blow carried him off his broom and into the open air. He could already taste the blood leaking from his nose. The evening sky was just fading to mauve above the pitch. Enrique blacked out.

He woke up to Lauri hovering above him, gently touching his face. “Ow.” He mumbled  
“Ow is right, you prat.” Lauri tutted, concern making him tetchy as usual. “He’s fine! I can levitate him to the Infirmary.” He called up, presumably to Enrique’s team mates.  
“D’nt talk about me the third person when ‘m right here Lauri!” He exclaimed, wincing as the speech put pressure on his damaged nose.  
“I can do whatever I want, I’m levitating you.”  
“Lemme walk.” Lauri sighed and swished his wand, gently lowering Enrique. He put his arm around his waist to angle him upwards correctly, as the blood in Enrique’s body rushed towards his feet he keeled over slightly and he was grateful for Lauri’s grip on him as his vision whited out in places and his head swam. He staggered alongside Lauri to the infirmary, the skinny arm looped around him an anchor.

Reginald Dinh had only been working in the infirmary for four years, and supremely objected to being called ‘matron’. He was in the process of calibrating some complicated-looking instruments when Lauri called through the department, slightly exhausted from carrying Enrique’s weight on his own slight frame.  
“Matron!”  
“I’m not a fucking- oh my.” His voice faltered as he caught sight of the ungainly pair. “That’s a lot of blood. Set him down here, please. I’ll be right back.”  
Enrique perched on the side of a bed, Lauri’s arm still around him. He pouted as best he could. “‘m still cute right Lauri?”  
Lauri threw back his head and laughed. It made Enrique feel a little better. “Your face is a mess, Enrique. Regi will fix it up though.”  
“Damn right Regi will!” He shouted as he careered around the corner, with a bundle of supplies in his arms. “Okay, Enrique right? Just tip your head back so I can take a look.”  
Enrique obliged; the stark lights of the infirmary danced above his face for a moment before his eyes rolled back in his head and he succumbed to unconsciousness again.

“...should probably stay here until the medication wears off, it’s all that’s keeping a nasty concussion at bay.”  
“Okay. I’ll wait here with him.”  
The voices felt very far away. Lauri’s arm was gone as well, which he found disconcerting. “Lau…?” He mumbled, the distinct wetness of blood was gone from his face, however the pain was still radiating powerfully.  
“Right here, idiot.” Enrique opened his eye a crack and was rewarded with a stabbing pain in the temple. “Ow. Everything hurts.” He closed his eyes again.  
“Just sleep for now, I’ll stay until you’re ready to go.”  
“Lau… Di-”  
“I don’t know if Wang Squad won or not Enrique.” Lauri deadpanned, all of his delicate tone vanished. It made Enrique feel more comfortable, a gentle Lauri usually meant something bad was happening to him.  
Enrique curled up a little and giggled. “I’m very predictable.”  
“You’re very on drugs to prevent brain damage. Although I would call it a bit late for that.” Enrique smiled into a pillow that smelt of lavender. “Sure you don’t mind?” He asked, reaching his hand out.  
“Not at all.” Lauri replied. He placed his hand over Enrique’s, gripping it gently. Enrique threaded their fingers together and focused on tensing each finger in Lauri’s grasp until it faded away into a distant sensation and sleep overcame him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO, sorry about the wait. I've been real busy lately, so here's a slightly longer chapter to compensate. I have made a few small edits to previous chapters but nothing crazy relevant so don't worry about re-reading it- hope u enjoy fam.

Soren Bjerg almost tripped over four times en route from breakfast at the Ravenclaw table to his first charms class of the year. The first was in the crush the to leave the Great Hall, he had almost fallen head first over a wayward second year who for some reason had yet to comprehend a simple contraflow system. He had mumbled an apology before charging ahead, only to step onto a staircase that had decided that being stationary was boring. After being flung into Pippa Oswin and helping her pick up her books, he had decided the day was cursed. Also, he was going to be late. The penultimate time had almost been the charm; he had rounded the corner of the third floor at a decent pace, only to find that the toilets on that corridor had flooded. He flailed for a minimum of twenty seconds trying not to faceplant into the murky-looking water before recovering his balance, relieved that no one had been there to see it. Finally, things had looked to good to fail. He was within twenty paces of the classroom door. He could hear the babble coming from the seventh years inside. And he had almost stacked it over his shoelace. Soren’s glasses tumbled off of his face and clattered across the floor. His wand was up his sleeve and a simple _accio glasses_ was enough to retrieve them, however upon principle he was pissed. Stumbling and cursing under his breath, he walked into the lesson.

Soren was done with this day. He tried to find comfort in the idea that it probably couldn’t get worse from here, or at least his coordination couldn’t. The class was mostly paired up, the syllabus the had been handed the year before clearly reading ‘ASSESSED PAIRS COURSEWORK’ from September until half term. Only two lone people remained that he could see; Maurice Stuckensneider and a Hufflepuff girl named Natalie. They were sitting on other sides of the classroom paying no particular mind to the process of students gravitating closer together and exchanging complex glances. Soren sat down, happy to be working with either of them. He could just spend the next five minutes until the lesson began doodling in his notebook or even squeeze in a three-minute power nap. Opening some of his books, he rested his head on the desk.

He was awoken by the Professor's 'shut up and listen voice’.  
“Maurice, Natalie, you will be a pair!”  
Soren jolted awake, a page of his notebook stuck to his face. Very dignified. He glanced around. He had made a grave miscalculation, sitting at the back with his head down having snoozed for seven minutes by accident. The entire class was in twos, both of his prime partners gone.  
“Um, Professor Depoortere?” Soren knew the professor had a soft spot for him because he was one of the few students in the class, or perhaps the school, who could pronounce her surname. Most people just called her Professor Sjokz for short, including her fellow teachers.  
“Hi Soren, how was your break?” She asked, shuffling her papers and counting out enough for the class under her breath, not even glancing at him.  
“Uh, fine- I don’t have a partner though.” He explained awkwardly, feeling the rest of the classes’ eyes on him. The day dropped another level into Shitsville. Diego Ruiz, one his dorm-mates, gave him a guilty look and mouthed the phrase ‘sorry bro’ exaggeratedly, already buddied up with Alan Nyugen.  
“What?” The professor stopped her fussing. “We have an even number of students in this class, someone must be late.” She pursed her lips and did a quick head count as the students scanned around for their missing compatriot. Soren was already accepting his fate- he could do a project alone. Hell, he could do twenty projects alone. He didn’t need some schmuck slowing him down anyway.

As soon as Professor Depoortere finished tallying up students, the door banged open behind Soren. He jumped as Yiliang Peng careered into the room.  
“Sorry I’m late, prof.” He grinned, clearly not very sorry.  
“I’m sorry too. You will be working with Soren and for five minutes after class to make up for the lost time.” Her words weren’t cold, but her tone was icy. He sat down with no arguments.

Soren wasn’t sure he had ever had a proper conversation with Peng. The guy was hard to miss though; always the loudest person in the centre of the loudest conversation. He always saw him hanging out with his dorm-mate Zaqueri. He was a little outrageous at times and prone to putting his foot in his mouth, from what Soren had witnessed from the sidelines of school life. They had played each other at quidditch a few times in his third and fourth, before his wrist injury had put him on the sidelines there, too. He couldn’t help but remember with poignant clarity that that whole fiasco had been caused by Peng.

He sat down next to Soren- he was skinny but his vibrancy seemed to fill all the space his frame left vacant.  
“Hi, I don’t know if we’ve ever properly met before.” He said, smiling.  
“You knocked me off a broom in fourth year.” Soren deadpanned.  
Peng blinked and coughed away what could have been a laugh “And I’m so glad to see you’re well!”  
“...I fractured every bone in the left side of my body.”  
Peng blinked, somewhat belligerently. “So you know Regi!”  
Soren couldn’t help but stare. What was wrong with this kid?  
“Yes, because he’s the only person working in the medical wing _and he had to put together half of my skeleton._ How is that what you gleaned from that story?”  
“I’m an optimist?” He replied, cheekily.  
Soren was about to loose a damning retort when he was interrupted by the professor.

“Okay class! This is the final coursework component of your NEWT in Charms, and one of the most difficult. You will be working together to create an augment a set of charms into a single, functionable spell. That is the only specification, however obviously the top marks will go to the most sophisticated, cogent and creative sets of work.”  
A small, speculative murmur went through the class.  
“All of your class hours from now until half term will be dedicated to this. You may come to me for help and advice-" Her tone changed suddenly. "But _no whining._ The pairs are final, your time starts now.”  
She smiled before sitting down and conjuring a set of papers from somewhere, putting on her glasses and zoning out of her surroundings entirely.

Soren died a little more internally. He figured if nothing else he could swing swapping pairs with someone- Maurice perhaps. So far Peng was proving to be a minor disaster that would probably only get worse with time.

“Yeah, Regi’s like… my dad or whatever.” Peng hadn’t seemed to have noticed his misgivings.  
“Regi is your dad?” He asked confusedly. Reginald was definitely not old enough to have an eighteen year old son.  
“Well not like literally.. But spiritually. I spend a lot of time in the infirmary.” He grinned wryly.  
“Huh. Doesn’t surprise me from how I remember you flying.”  
“Plus animals hate me. Care of Magical Creatures was a really dumb OWL for me to take in retrospect.” Soren couldn’t help but snigger at the idea of Peng getting taken down a peg or two by a swarm of angry puffskeins.  
“Don’t laugh dude!” He said, also laughing. “I got a much deserved Dreadful in that.”

Soren squinted at his notebook. ‘YILIANG PENG’ was stencilled over the top of the cover- although Soren had heard almost all of his close friends call him ‘Peter’. He had a short but intense crisis of confidence.  
“So Yi- uh, Pe..” He floundered for a moment before deciding on a confident course of action. “What should I call you?” He asked.  
“Hey,” he patted Soren’s hand. “Call me daddy.”  
He couldn't help but let out a huff of irritation and started jotting down ideas for spell augmentation. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Peng leaning back on his chair surveying the room, chewing on the end of his wand. _What an ass._ Soren thought. At least he was funny though; and much less egotistical than he had expected. 

“So, I have some ideas.” Soren glanced at him, startled. He had at least five different possibilities, none of them particularly inspiring- he was starting to worry he would have to dedicate a lot more time to this project. After twenty minutes his partner’s notebook was still closed and he looked like he was totally staring into space.  
“Yeah? Like what.” He wasn’t a brat, so he cleared a space in his meticulous spider diagram for his partner. A small one, because he wasn’t expecting much- the guy seemed like a total slacker and Bjerg wasn’t exactly feeling peachy about having to carry through the entire project himself.  
“Augment simple charms, but multiple. I was thinking water, _aguamenti_ , you know- and heat. Create steam, boiling water, cold water, whatever. It seems basic, but we would have to calibrate and fine-tune every single temperature for the charm..”  
Soren nodded and quietly erased all of his ideas. Peng’s were better. He felt annoyingly small. 

If his partner had noticed his sudden rush of humility, he showed no signs of it. “Hey I don’t know if we’ve notified the dork-squad yet-”  
Soren huffed. “That’s a really demeaning name for the Ravenclaw hou-”  
“This is exactly why it’s used-” Yiliang Peng cut across him entirely, “and we’re having a party.”  
That shut Soren up.  
“Tomorrow night on the Seventh floor. It should be wild.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.  
He nodded. “Sounds.. Cool.”  
“Bring along any and all upperclassmen you can find, we want this first week of term party to make up for the fact that everyone is about to get academically shat on for the next few weeks.”  
Soren snorted with laughter. “Tell me about it. What other subjects do you do?”  
“Charms, duh- also Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle studies, Herbology and Transfiguration.”  
“Oh, cool. None in common with me besides this then.” Bjerg noted. “That means it’ll be more stress to find times when we’re both free.”  
“Aw, already looking to spend more time with me?” Peng asked, batting his lashes obnoxiously.  
Soren rolled his eyes. This guy seemed to tread the thin line between funny and the most irritating person he had ever met.  
“So the thing about creating steam with two spells at once is…” Immediately after being idiotic, Peng launched into a complicated rant about augmenting charms. Soren could just about keep up, transcribing the stream of consciousness into his notebook and adding his own ideas alongside, interrupting Peng to do so. They managed to do this until the bell rang. Soren felt far more confident about the whole affair now they had four solid theories on how would be most efficient to start experimenting with their charms.

“We’re gonna need to figure out a time to work on this outside of class. What do you have next period?” Peng asked, watching him shovel books into his satchel.  
“Uhh, a free. I’ll probably head to the library.”  
“Neat, me too. Catch you later.”  
Soren nodded and moved to leave the class.  
“Oh, Peter’s fine, by the way.” Peng called after him. Soren couldn’t help but smile a little. The guy seemed like a pain, but also kind of a laugh. He figured he would need some time to acclimatise to Peter Peng, but he seemed very bearable under all of his bravado.

Diego caught up with him in the hallway “Dude, sorry we didn’t wait for you before pairing up..”  
Alan Nguyen nodded, eyes sympathetic. “I didn’t even know you were in our class this year.. Sorry you got stuck with some random.”  
Soren shrugged. “It’s Peter Peng. I barely know him but I’ve definitely heard a lot from the guy the seven years we’ve been here. He doesn’t feel like some random.”  
Diego laughed and Alan nodded, knowingly. “You headed to the library now?” He asked.  
“Yeah, got a free before Alchemy.” Soren replied.  
“I don’t know how you do that shit, dude. Enjoy though- I have potions with Deficio next.” Diego said, grimacing. “At least the new TA mellows him out a little.” He called over his shoulder, heading down to the dungeons.

Soren walked to the library with Alan, who was a natural chatterer. Whilst he talked about life in the Hufflepuff dorms and who out of the Chudley Cannons and Puddlemere United was most likely to be relegated from premier league quidditch, Soren mentally catalogued all of the books he was going to need to carry from the library to Ravenclaw tower. His wrist twinged with phantom pains. This distracted him from where he was putting his feet, causing him to stumble on an uneven step on the stairs towards the library. This wouldn’t have been a problem if it were an isolated incident, however the person walking behind him crashed directly into the back of him, his eyes focused on the sheaf of papers in his hands. Soren was sent careering forwards, his assailant yelping and almost losing his footing whilst letting the papers cascade from his hands onto the floor. _Five_ , thought Soren in the split second of vaguely accepting his fate of falling onto his nose, but Alan had the sense to grab Soren’s arm so gravity didn’t totally dick him over and send him sprawling across the floor. 

“I am so sorry, holy shit.”  
Soren immediately recognised the voice, having spent six years in a house with the guy.  
“It’s cool, Bunny.” He said, righting himself. Michael Kurylo looked frazzled. His Ravenclaw tie was knotted bizarrely, his hair was mussed up somewhat, and he had a small stain of ink on his cheek beside his mouth. “Are you okay?”  
“Are _you_ okay? Sorry about that man, I was a million miles away.”  
“No harm, no foul.” Soren smiled.  
“Oh, dude.” Alan grabbed a few of the papers before passing third years could stomp across them.  
“Fuck I needed those. Say do either of you do Ancient Runes? It’s already busting my balls so bad.”  
Bjerg shook his head as Alan laughed ruefully. “God no dude,” he said. “I can think of a few seventh years that do though. Who teaches it?”  
“Professor Lonnquist. He’s pretty cool, but I feel awkward asking for help in the first week you know?”  
“Hey, you know what, I can think of at least two people I know who gladly go over some stuff with you.” Bjerg offered. He didn’t like to see his housemate suffering, especially someone as generally well-composed as Bunny.  
His eyes shone in response. “Wait, for real?”  
“Sure, why not? I’ll ask around later.”  
“Thanks man, you’re a real life-saver. Oh shit-” He darted off after another clump of his papers which were being carried along on the robe-tails of a huge swarm of fourth years.  
“What’s the idiot taking Ancient Runes for anyways?” Alan wondered out loud as they watched Bunny jog down the corridor after his notes.

They arrived in the library and Alan peeled off to rifle through some huge shelves of books whilst Soren found his regular table fairly empty, compared to how it was usually littered with Ravenclaw students. He sat down opposite Zaqueri Black, his dorm-mate, his back facing the door.  
“I have been having the worst day.” He began.  
“Yeah? Wh-” Zac’s reply was cut off by a stern _shhh!_ from the teacher on duty. Soren hadn’t even noticed he was there- from his peripherals the guy could have been a seventh year. He was incredibly young-looking, his teacher’s robes and resting bitchface the only indicator he wasn’t stressing about his N.E.W.T.S like the rest of them.  
Zac rolled his eyes and whispered. “New teaching assistants right? The power always goes to their head in the first few weeks.” Soren snorted affirmatively and pulled out his notebook, scanning through the notes he had made.  
“Hey, do you know anyone that does Ancient Runes?”  
Zaqueri frowned. “Let me guess, Bunny totally regrets taking it already?”  
Bjerg laughed. Zac was finely attuned to all of the happenings in Ravenclaw house. “He is losing his goddamn mind. He almost bodied me in the corridor because he was busy reading his notes.”  
“Ugh, I’ll ask around and see if anyone has the time to tutor him.” Zac said, writing a reminder on his hand before going back to the huge chart of information he was diligently copying out of a tome in front of him.

The peace had settled for all but a moment before a “Hey, Bjerg!” rang out through the space. Peter was way too loud for libraries, Soren immediately concluded. The TA stared daggers as Peng waved apologetically and spoke quieter as he approached their table. “So, I have Quidditch tonight, but let’s work on this thing some time at the weekend yeah?”  
“Sure, how-” Soren turned to speak but was cut off by Zac clearing his throat loudly behind him. He watched as Peter’s expression darkened and his ears went a little flushed. The pause hung, heavy in the air. Soren couldn’t breathe, let alone turn to ask Zac what the fuck was going on. Peter swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing. His eyes were unreadable- accusation, hurt, fear, emotions flickered through them rapidly. He blinked, and moved his attention back to Soren, time relapsing into a normal pace.  
“So, Saturday? See you at the party tomorrow, Bjergy- oh. _Bjergerking_. Has anyone done that before? Doesn’t matter, I’m having it. Bye!” His enthusiasm seemed a little forced as he left the library at top speed.

Soren blinked a few times before turning back to Zaqueri. His expression was dark.  
“That guy is a dick.”  
He baulked a little- that was the last thing he had expected. “I thought you two were close?” Soren asked, awkwardly. It had always seemed that way to him- he had the impression they were inseparable.  
“Emphasis on the past tense, were, yeah. He’s.. Impossible. At first you think he’s this crazy, awesome, vibrant person.” Crazy and vibrant were definitely words Soren had thought to himself earlier, admittedly.  
“He’s just a hole for good vibes, basically. He drags everyone around him down, he’s spiteful, he’s critical and a lot of the time downright unfair.” The venom in Zac’s words shocked him. He was usually so easy-going, what kind of a person could make him so wrathful?  
“He gets under your skin. And you basically have to tear yourself apart to get him out.” He said softly, almost mournfully. “I’m sorry. That was kind of heavy.”  
“Uh, yeah it was insanely heavy." Soren replied, a little dumbfounded. "And I have to do my Charms coursework with him, even if he is a megadick.”  
“It’s going to be a long semester, buddy.” Zaqueri clapped him on the shoulder and smiled wryly. Soren figuratively, but at least not literally, fell on his ass; and decided that he was going to spend the rest of the day in his dorm, in bed, not giving the universe the chance to give him a harder time than it already had today.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zooweemama this took forever.. It's been floating around half-finished on my laptop and it's become horrendously long- I will keep updating this probably but it may be pretty slow going

The class didn’t start for another three minutes, but Martin Larsson was already watching the clock. Potions was his last lesson before lunch, and Bora Kim had promised him he would be here by lunchtime. Bora had been on exchange in Korea for a year now and Martin couldn’t wait to see him again. They had been close ever since his second year, when Bora had started an intermediate fliers club for kids who wanted to get better at on a broom. Martin had grown up in an entirely muggle background, so unlike a decent number of his peers he hadn’t been glued to a broom since the age of four. The first time he rode a broom was terrifying, and a little humiliating, and in front of most of their year- but it had left him with a burning desire to improve at it.

The first session had been kind of awkward, a strange mishmash of kids from different years and houses- but then the group had started to mesh. Intermediate Fliers Club officially went bust by the end of the year, but the friendships had already been forged and the group had begun having impromptu quidditch sessions and hanging out despite their divisions- three years later it had blossomed into a twenty-person affair and after only two years Martin had been made the starting seeker for his house. Fabian Diepenstrat, one of the other club members, had been made seeker for Ravenclaw a few months afterwards and they were about even in skill. Martin felt he was definitely on par with Zoe Corolla, who had flashes of brilliance on the Hufflepuff team but lacked consistency. Perhaps not as good as Luka Perkovic, the Slytherin seeker. It really ground his gears how good that kid was- although he spent far more time goading opposing players than practicing it seemed to Martin. It made him want to work harder, which he did for a year wishing that Bora was still there to help him, and talk to him, and generally big brother the crap out of him.

The seat next to him scraped outwards. “Nice flying yesterday.” A soft voice said, as he was joined at his potions desk. Martin smiled. He knew that Yeu-jin Kim was absolutely referencing the wild goose chase he had lead him on all game, ducking, weaving and diving around the pitch.  
He didn’t even glance over before replying. “Hi Yeu-jin. How was your holiday?”  
Yeu-jin took the seat next to him and shrugged. “Not bad. Yours?”

The alien molasses of familiarity held them together. Martin could remember cogently when he and Yeu-jin had spent most afternoons together, in their third and fourth years. Back then they had made fierceless progress.

Martin started pulling his things out of his bag, pulling out a fresh set of scale and textbooks, as well as a very battered-looking notebook, which only looked more weathered in comparison to the newer ones. He couldn’t bear to throw away his notebook from last year. He had enchanted it specially so all the little illustrations Hyukkyu had drawn on it wouldn’t fade. A messy drawing of an alpaca dominated the back cover, along with several scrawled diagrams of quidditch plays, an unflattering cartoon of Gu Seung-bin labelled ‘IMP’, and a quick doodle he had done of Martin’s profile once, whilst they were stargazing from the quidditch stands on the first warm evening of Summer term last year. Martin thought it was a little too flattering, but he liked that it was how Hyukkyu perceived him, if nothing else.

Martin missed Kim Hyukkyu so much it hurt, a little. Last year had been a strange, adrift one without Bora- and hence without the lynchpin that held together their small group, separated by age and house divisions. He had still spent plenty of time with Fabian, but Huni and Yeu-jin had started to strike out in new crowds. Enrique was always there, but he was engrossed with his peers and didn’t have time to waste with Martin. He had been, in short, a little lonely. Until he had started talking to Hyukkyu. Talking was a bit of a stretch at first- the language barrier was pretty severe, but they had bonded over a mutual love of flying. Being on a broomstick seemed to be the red thread that held Martin’s life together at times.

Hyukkyu wasn’t his first kiss, but definitely his best, so far.

But then Hyukkyu and Seung-bin had gone home, their exchange ended and their time at Hogwarts expired. Hyukkyu promised he would write, and Martin had received tidbits over the Summer- a photo of Hyukkyu by the sea, smiling and wrinkling his nose at Martin from far away, the waves lapping at the shore infinitely behind him. There were of course, more drawings of alpacas. There had been no conversation nor promises about their future however. Martin was in an awkward limbo; desperate to have Hyukkyu back with him at Hogwarts, but also ready to let their time together go if that year was all it would be- he didn’t want to waste his time moping around the places they would loiter together around the castle, pining over someone who was thousands of miles away. Someone who hadn’t even replied to his last owl. The two urges could not coexist and he had stayed up for nights at a time in summer, wondering which to succumb to. 

All of the loneliness and love and confusion only amplified his desire for Bora to get home already. Bora knew how to deal with everything, or so it had always seemed to Martin.

Even if today he was extra-eager to get the class started, and thus finished, Martin was always deliberately a little early to Potions class with Professor Deficio. He was a good teacher, but liable to rake you over the coals in front of all of your peers for the smallest of infringements. Zachary Scuderi managed to slip in just before the bell, as Deficio was beginning to put chalk to board, almost blowing his cover by dithering by the door looking around. A boy in a Slytherin tie that Martin recognised from the small crowd watching the quidditch game last night waved at him. “Hey! Sneaky!” Zach smiled at him weakly and sat down next to him, pulling dusty-looking textbooks out of his bag.

William Hartman was not so lucky, opening the door as the bell rang.  
“So glad you could join us, Will.” The professor said tartly from behind his desk.  
“Ah my bad, had a lot of..” He trailed off in the doorway, looking like someone had slapped him. He then snapped back to reality, beginning his sentence very loudly in a way that made a few people giggle. Hartman was the class clown of every lesson, hell, every _room_ Martin had ever seen him in.  
“ _-stuff_ to get from the library. Sorry professor, won’t happen again.” He shifted awkwardly, aware that everyone was looking at his new haircut. Martin personally thought it was kind of fresh. Or at least better than that weird mop he had had before. Deficio let him stew by the door for a moment before gesturing to a seat. “Sit down Mr. Hartman. Don’t make me regret taking you on this year, despite your… Lacklustre performance in the OWLS.”  
“Sorry, professor. Won’t happen again.” He repeated, sitting down next to Lizzie Kerr. Lizzie looked vaguely horrified at the prospect of having him as a lab partner, but didn’t seem to want to make a fuss.

The potions master swished his robes a little grandiosely before he began talking to the whole class. “Good afternoon. Welcome to N.E.W.T.S level potions. The syllabus is considerably more demanding than last years’, and you should be prepared to work as hard as you can to meet its expectations.” Martin wilted a little internally, every teacher had done a similar spiel about how this year was when a subject ‘really came into its own’, or as the kids call it ‘gets super fucking difficult and demands ass-loads of homework.’ 

Martin heard a small clattering from inside the closet where all of the ingredients were kept as the professor continued talking, at the front of the class, the door to the glorified cupboard parallel with Deficio’s desk. “I don’t care who you’re working with, so long as you present me with an adequate draft of something at the end of each lesson, and the relevant coursework handed into me or-” 

The clattering crescendoed into a crashing, and then the very anticlimactic tinkle of smashing jars on the stone floor echoed around the dungeon. A few of the them bounced out of the cupboard and proceeded to shatter further next to the professors feet. He looked down at the shards for a long moment before gesturing towards the chaos ensuing.

“Our new teaching assistant. Everyone, this is Mitch Voorspoels, our new teaching assistant. Because many of you are asinine bone heads with no sense of pronunciation, you may call him Professor Krepo.” A young man stepped out a little sheepishly. He looked incredibly young, his height not helping matters, with large brown eyes and a what Martin would cite as a _prime_ fresh haircut. 

He gave the class a wave before flicking his wand and repairing the shattered jars, complete with their various contents. “Hi. If you have any questions or need help, don’t hesitate to ask.” He said kindly, playing off his embarrassment as he levitated the jars back into the ingredients closet.  
“But preferably know everything off the top of your own head.” Deficio chimed in.  
Krepo laughed. “You want them to memorise the text books already?” All of his meekness had immediately fallen away, replaced with what Martin could only describe as downright cheek. The entire class held their breath for a millisecond- he had never seen someone try to _banter_ with Deficio. Any attempts at backchat from a student were promptly quashed by him usually. Martin had only seen him laugh genuinely once- in conversation with Professor Henry at Christmas dinner during his fourth year at Hogwarts. It had been a great booming laugh at that, most of the teaching staff several pints of eggnog down by this point and pretending not to notice that a lot of their older students were behaving exceptionally merry as well. Martin had found it oddly heartwarming to watch, until a slightly drunken Enrique had smeared mashed potato on his face and demanded that he come and play quidditch with him and the Slytherins. He had spent the rest of that evening tumbling about in snow and air and smoking weed with Yeu-jin for the first time. There he was again, a steady pulse through his life. Four years they had been friends now, that pattern obliterated by Hyukkyu and his pervasive presence in Martin’s life for the past year. They had made snow angels and Paul had almost died from slipping over into the lake. Heartwarming memories.

The millisecond stretched and condensed with the sudden rush of memories, before Deficio chuckled. “No no of course not… That comes later.”  
The class let out a collective groan as the two elder men laughed. A few students joined them in disbelief, _Deficio? Making a joke? Bizarre._ The man himself did not miss a beat.  
“Today you will be making a simple Hiccoughing Solution in order to refresh your potion-making skills, which I trust you did not allow to fall into rust, from over the Summer- instructions are in your textbooks.”  
“-and if you find anything too difficult because like a terrible student you didn’t spend your holidays making draughts, there is a valuable resource in the OWL textbooks, page 156.” Krepo supplied from half-inside the cupboard.  
Deficio rolled his eyes. “Or you could take the less academically rewarding way out, sure. You have until the end of class.”

Martin joined the queue of sheepish students for waiting for an OWL textbook. As soon as the recipe mentioned Shrivelfigg his mind jumped to last spring, when he had learned to dice them in the particularly demanding way you had to in order to use their juice effectively. On the actual details on how exactly to do that however, he was drawing a blank. Seung-bin had been his lab partner that year, they hadn’t got much done in the way of academia, but Martin had almost dislodged a rib laughing at least once at his various misadventures with cauldrons about the size of him or flicking rat’s brains at him across the desk. He waited in the gradually moving queue as Professor Krepo issued a book and a stern warning that if they didn’t hand it in at the end of a lesson he would personally make them suffer. He idly eavesdropped on the conversation taking place in front of him.

Will Hartman looked kind of tense, from his body language. He was tapping his fingers on his leg, which was he was in turn knocking against the leg of the desk the was leaning against. It was a marvel of fidgeting. Eugene Park didn’t seem to notice as he turned around to smile at Will. “Hey man. Didn’t see you at Quidditch last night!”  
It took Will a moment to process his words. “Oh yeah, no. I, uh. Had a thing.” His incessant tapping seemed to be ratcheting up in pace a little.  
“Really? On the first day back?” Eugene asked.  
“Totally. Weird stuff. Who’s the new guy over there?”  
“The Slytherin guy with Zach?” Will cringed infinitesimally. Eugene kept talking. “That’s Jensen. I barely know him, they were together at the quidditch last night though. He seems cool.”  
“Oh, cool. Cool.”  
“Or at least funny.”  
“Oh funny, cool. Cool.”  
“He seemed to be making Zach laugh a lot if nothing else, how come you haven’t met him?”  
“Yeah you know I had stuff to do last night, just generally cool stuff... Wow ‘cool’ doesn’t seem like a real word anymore.” Will Hartman was talking at a mile a minute. “Crazy how nature does that, oh wow is that a-” he pointed and Eugene followed his gesture across the classroom. Will took that as a cue to cut in front of him and take a textbook from Krepo. “Thank you for your death threat, I fully intend on cashing in on it any moment now.” He said monotonously before sloping back to Lizzie Kerr.

Martin had a good snicker at that before he accepted his book and hard stare with a smile and slunk back to his desk. Martin’s NEWTS textbook was in mint condition having barely even been opened over the summer, however the school’s book was covered in scorch marks and suspect stains. There was also a host of graffiti-like tags on the inside cover, the most legible reading ‘WELCOME TO MY BUTTHOLE’ in block capitals. He flicked through, enjoying the highlights- they were all pretty old and some of them downright bizarre: crudely drawn Koalas with the Slytherin quidditch team captain’s face on them recurred frequently, along with ‘PERKOVIC HAS NO NOB’, ‘SJOKZ SIT ON MY FACE’ and ‘420 BLAZE IT ‘ as some of the more commonly scrawled words. Four pages before 156 there was a fresh one, probably from earlier that day. ‘THE NEW TA: blow or be blown by??’ There was only one tally in the poll so far, but regardless Martin giggled to himself and elbowed Yeu-jin gently. “Check this out.”  
Yeu-jin squinted at the page, and then squinted at Professor Krepo. “I think I’d be okay with going down on that.” He said matter-of-factly.  
Martin giggled incredulously, not expecting a genuine answer, before throwing in his own two cents. “Okay so that’s 2-1 on getting blown by, because I’m agreeing with the author.” He said, adding a mark to each column before turning the page. 

Martin began to slice up the shrivelfigg carefully whilst Yeu-jin fiddled with their cauldron. The way he poked his tongue slightly out of the corner of his mouth unconsciously when he concentrated was unequivocally adorable. Martin sighed internally. He had a type. Cute, funny Koreans with reserved smiles and deft hands seemed to be his absolute kryptonite. 

The class passed with little incident after he carved up the tricky little fruits, they delivered their potion to Professor Deficio who curtly sniffed it and nodded approvingly. It was an unspoken reward for brewing your potion with time to spare that you could leave the dungeon early, and the pair of them tore up the stairs quickly towards the Great Hall.  
“Bora will be here any minute.” Martin grinned, checking his watch. “We should go round up anyone who’s in the dining room.”  
“I know that, dummy. I need to go to Hufflepuff dorms though.” He blushed a little. “Huni and I made him a cake.” Martin’s heart fucking melted. Of course. Of course Yeu-jin made his friend a cake to celebrate his homecoming.  
“You know where the Hufflepuff dorms are?” He asked, surprised. Rivalries had salved between houses, but there was no way there would not be several major cases of hazing, dorm invasions and general chaos if every house could access each other’s dorms. Hyukkyu had been in Hufflepuff for a whole year and Martin had never figured out whereabouts it was despite waving him off at almost every juncture in the castle. If he had to guess, maybe near the kitchens?  
Yeu-jin grinned. “Typical Gryffindorks and your rule-loving.” He said, cocking his head a little. “Luca’s gonna kill your ass on the quidditch pitch next week.”  
Martin meant to smile back breezily, in an equally alluring, arrogant manner. Inside he baulked after he processed the words. “The first game of the season is next week?”  
Yeu-jin tipped his head back and laughed. “You need Bora back dude, your head has been screwed on backwards all morning.”  
Martin was pretty sure that wasn’t a real idiom, but hey it wasn’t Yeu-jin’s first language- and he was planning to bunk off quidditch practice that evening and hang out with Bora. Usually in the circumstance, plus with it being the very first practice of the year, it would be allowed to slide, however Peter would skin him alive if he missed training with a game the following _week._  
“Meet you by the Entrance to the castle okay, Wonderboy?” Yeu-jin said as he tugged his sleeve and wandered off down the hallway, smiling over his shoulder at him.

He darted into the lunch hall early, scouring the crowds of students with his eyes. His first stop was definitely the Ravenclaw table, or should he find Enrique first? Martin could feel himself sliding into a mild frenzy. Today had been strange so far. First with Deficio laughing, and then Yeu-jin hypothetically wanting to blow the TA, and now Martin was thinking about that and it was decidedly not normal. He moved through the crush of students to the Gryffindor table, where he found Johan Olsson and Heather Lillde from the year below eating lunch over a stack of textbooks.  
“Hey Martin.” Johan said as soon as he got to the table.  
“Hi Johan, have you guys seen Fabian anywhere?”  
“He’s currently with his bestie.” Heather said, sniggering a little. She motioned with her fork towards the Ravenclaw table, accidentally flicking pasta onto her parchment. Martin only had to look around for a moment; the back of Fabian’s head was usually pretty nondescript and hard to spot in a crowd, but with Luka Perkovic visibly sprawled on a bench next to someone, proudly wearing his Slytherin tie at the complete wrong table, it was one hundred percent likely he was chatting trashtalk into Fabian’s ear. Martin rolled his eyes. Fabian always reacted to his goading. He didn’t harass the other seekers so frequently- although he definitely did a lot of other players. He had never seen Perkovic get hit, but Martin imagined that the thought of backhanding him across the mouth had flitted through a lot of people’s minds before. He sighed and began to saunter towards the crime scene waiting to happen.  
“Oh, Larsson are you not gonna eat?” Johan called after him.  
He stopped, cringing at his own behaviour. His head was still cramped with the swirling molasses of _does Will Hartman have beef with that new kid or something? Does Hyukkyu think about me half as much as I do him? I hope I don’t forget how to cut up those fucking plants again-_ ”Sorry dude,” he found himself saying, “gotta go round everyone up for Bora Kim getting back from exchange.” Johan nodded and smiled, waving him off. “Tell him hi from me.”  
“And me!” Heather said, around a mouthful of macaroni cheese as she multitasked eating and trying to rescue her homework.  
“Will do.” Martin laughed, “I’ll see you in the common room!” He found himself adding on the end. He felt like he had let him down a little- he liked Johan, he really did. He just had far more pressing matters at hand, like preventing Fabian from getting dragged off to Headmaster Patterson’s office for stabbing someone with a butter knife in the middle of lunch. 

He could see the tension in Fabian’s shoulders from metres away. “... I guess it’s not your fault, I’m sure you can put it down to being under-practiced.” Luka was saying.  
Fabian rounded on him best he could whilst sitting on a crowded bench.  
“Would you _shut up_? I am going to fucking humiliate you next time we’re on the pitch together I swear to Merlin.” Fabian hissed. “I’ve been practicing more than you have, I played last night, you know with my friends. Because I actually fucking have some.”  
Perkovic tipped his head back and guffawed. “Yeah dude I am such a zero, you really showed me. I’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight because you and your mentally backwards friends didn’t invite me to your dumb piss-about session.”  
Martin decided the time was now, he swooped in and grabbed Fabian’s shoulder.  
“Hey Fabi, c’mon. Bora’s going to be here any minute.” He said with urgency, pulling at his friends robes so he stood up.”  
“Great. Any excuse to get away from this blithering idiot.” Fabian snapped, clearly a little flustered  
“Wow, the tension is killing me.” Luka drawled, the picture of resolute mocking.  
“Shut up you-”  
Martin wasn’t a big guy, but if he put his back into it he knew he could forcibly removed Fabian from the Hall. He grabbed his arm and started dragging. Fabian almost tripped over the bench and allowed himself to be escorted out, muttering under his breath.

He only let go once they had evacuated the premises into the clogged hallway. Fabian shoved him away a little but Martin let it slide. He was frustrated.  
“Why do you let him wind you up like that?” He asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.  
“I don’t! He’s just always there, running his fucking mouth-”  
“He’s a total kid Fabian, you shouldn’t let him get to you.” Martin replied pedantically, cutting him off. They had been having the same conversation for almost a year now. “He completely gets off on the fact that you can’t help but be annoyed by him.”  
“Gross.” Fabian spat under his breath as they rounded the corner.

Waiting for them was a motley parade of people, including Huni grinning and holding a gigantic cake that looked like it had been iced hurriedly in the past two minutes. “Is this everyone?” Enrique asked, glancing about.

There was a dramatic crack from behind them, as Bora dissapparated into the room, staggering a little and dropping one of his cases. They all span around at liturgy of crashes.  
“I have yet to perfect that.” Bora said awkwardly to his audience. Martin was already grinning.  
Enrique bounded over, batted his other trunk out of his hand and forcibly hugged him. “You’re here in one piece, that’s what counts.” Huni whooped and joined the pair in the hugging extravaganza, whilst Yeu-jin smiled behind him, patting Bora’s arm and greeting him less exuberantly than his ostentatious other half but with no less geniality. Martin couldn’t hold back long and joined them, the entire crowd moving with him; Paul, Lauri, Fabian and himself all joined the group hug.  
“Booooorastaaaaaaaar! Home at last!” Howled Paul, mussing his hair up over Enrique’s head. Bora looked a little overwhelmed at best as he untangled himself from the throng of students, but he smiled as Martin sidled up beside him.

“Hey man, you good?”  
“Can’t complain.” Martin said a little weakly as he hugged him- Bora had got a little more muscular over the time he had been away but Martin had grown considerably. It felt strange to hook his head over his shoulder when he hugged, but it also made him feel like he had been re-gifted a limb as the phantom pains abated. This year will be better, he thought to himself firmly, before catching Yeu-jin’s eye. He smiled.


End file.
